It’s been a while since I’ve posted here. Last time I posted on Introductions I was around 400 days. Today I posted 773. A lot has happened in that time. A pandemic. Some really bad winter storms. Life in general. But I want to share something tonight. My dad was smoking 5 packs/day when I was 6 years old. Chain smoking from the time he woke up til he went to sleep. When I was 6, he had a mini stroke. It scared the crap out of him. He told me later on that he prayed that if God would let him survive it, he would never smoke again. Well, God did spare him and my dad honored his oath to quit. Cold turkey, in the hospital. He never picked up another cigarette again. About 10 years later, I started dipping. My dad didn’t like it, at all. He made it clear that it wasn’t acceptable in his house, so began the sneaking. Of course, my dad didn’t want me to go down the same road he did. Once I graduated high school and moved out, there wasn’t anything he could do about it any more. He would still tell me he wished I would quit. Of course at 19, I knew everything. He was always worried about my health even though he wasn’t the kind of person to hound you about something. I remember after joining KTC, I told him I quit. For good. He told me he was so proud of me. Now, I always knew my dad loved me. It was never a question. But my dad wasn’t the type to just hand out things like that. It really made me feel good to hear that from him. Every once in a while, my dad would ask me what my day count was. He was so supportive and and remains very proud. Of course, I never quit for him or anyone else but myself, but it still helps fuels my resolve. Unfortunately, my dad will not be able to ask me my day count anymore. He had a massive heart attack early Tuesday morning and died. He was a good man. He was the man that I think most of us want to be. A good husband for 53 years to my mom. A good father who taught me that being a real man was more important than money, status or anything else. He taught me the importance of hard work, honesty, integrity and always keeping your word. He taught me there is nothing more important than faith, family and friends. I’m sitting at my parents house right now. In his chair. I can feel him all around me and it hurts that he isn’t here. Saturday, we will bury him. But he is still all around. I can hear his voice. I can envision him walking around this house. I can picture him sound asleep in the very chair that I sit in. The up side is that when he died, he knew that I loved him. Those were the last words I said to him about an hour before he died. He also knew that I was still quit. As I said, I didn’t quit for anyone but me. But knowing the pride he took in that, it helps give me resolve to stay that way. I am honored to have known a man of his stature. Even more so, blessed to have had that man as my father. I was close to my dad and I am proud of everything he did. He was taken from this earth, but when he was I was able to say, “Dad, I’m still quit.” Thank you for allowing me to spill my guts. Please make sure that those you love and care about know it. Swallow pride and put differences aside. You just don’t know when that last conversation will truly be the last. Please don’t end up having regrets that you wished you had said something when you had the chance. This post is in honor of my dad. My quit is my own. But it doesn’t mean that it can’t honor my dad as a secondary.